


Pandemonium

by LadyWallace



Series: Raising Hell [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Gen, Hell Headcanon, Hurt Juliet, Hurt Sam, King Of Hell Sam Winchester, Knight of Hell Dean Winchester, Lots of monster killing, Maybe a little horror?, Poisoned Sam, Raising Hell Verse, Secret Plots, Series, The Shedim, dark but good Winchesters, references to Season 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-01-26 10:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21372661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWallace/pseuds/LadyWallace
Summary: (Raising Hell Verse #2) The riots in Hell have ceased and all is going well, until a door in Hell's further reaches opens and lets out an old evil even demons fear. When Sam is badly injured trying to close the door, it's up to Dean and Cas to figure out how to fix this before the demons with rocky loyalties take advantage of their fallen king to try for another coup.
Relationships: Sam Winchester & Dean Winchester & Castiel
Series: Raising Hell [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1479407
Comments: 23
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, we're finally back with the next official installment of the Raising Hell series! I'm glad you guys enjoyed the one shots during the wait. I hope you continue to enjoy this series because I have at least three more to finish the arc this one starts, and after that, if you guys still want more, I may have to think of another arc ;)
> 
> RECAP: In the first story, it's a year after Sam and Dean took over the rule of Hell after Crowley's death, signing a contract he had set up for them which gave them special powers. Kipling and some disgruntled demons started a riot due to the changes the Winchesters had made to the crossroads deals. Kipling tries to turn the other demons against them by saying they're working with the angels, when, in reality, he's the one who made a deal with Naomi so they can get the Winchesters out of Hell and Kipling on the throne. Of course, that didn't go so well for him and he ended up beheaded by Dean. Now, Hell is still a little rocky from the rebellion, but the Winchesters are doing their best to put it back together...

It had been a long time since he'd stepped foot in Hell and it felt good.

The guard was easy to take out, never suspecting a thing until it was too late. He bundled the body into a crack where no one would find it, and then opened the outer gate into the darker, deeper reaches of Hell that even most demons feared to tread.

The door was sealed, but it was only a matter of a moment's work when you knew the proper words. And he was more powerful now too, so it would be easy.

It was easy. The seal cracked, and the door opened with a low rumble. Already the eager hissing could be heard on the other side.

He smiled, and turned around to retrace his steps, leaving the outer gate closed for now. Soon it would not matter; the Shedim would get through no matter what.

And when they did, Hell would be in chaos. The demons would turn on their new ruler for fear, and if their king survived the fight, he would never have the power or the knowledge to close the door again.

And when he showed that weakness there would be another ruler waiting in the wings to make things right.

"_Ugh."_

Dean clumped down the stairs into the bunker, Sam and Cas on his heels. "I swear, if I have to endure another four-hour meeting I will fall on my sword." He tossed the katana in question onto the map table along with his bag.

"At least we're making progress," Sam said with a false sense of cheeriness.

Dean grunted. It was true, though. After the riots, they had really cracked down on making sure the demons understood where they stood on things and when they would be willing to be lenient and when they would not. Thanks to the fact that they had mostly taken out all the demons who had been causing problems, during the uprising, a lot of their problem subjects had been taken care of. But Dean knew that demons were fickle and even the ones you thought were loyal could turn in a second. Crowley had found that out the hard way multiple times. It sucked, but it was their way of life now.

"I think you've been doing admirably, Sam," Cas told his friend sincerely. "After all, getting demons to agree on anything is like…I believe you humans say 'herding cats'?"

Sam chuckled. "Yeah, it's about like that. But I have a good feeling this will fix all of our potential problems. At least for the near future."

"Alright, well, my near future includes nothing but my bed," Dean said and waved a hand at the others. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Sam and Cas responded and Dean made his way to his room for some peace and quiet and _sleep_. What he really needed after all that time sitting and figuring things out was a good hunt. Maybe he would look for one tomorrow…

They were woken in the middle of the night by a frantic knocking at the bunker's door.

Dean leapt out of bed, gun in hand, as Sam and Cas appeared as well.

"Whatis it?" Sam slurred, running a hand through his hair.

Dean shook off sleep and hurried to the door, hauling it open to reveal the Steward of Hell, Wheatly.

Dean groaned. "Oh god, can you not leave us alone for one night? We do still need to sleep you know—the contract didn't fix that."

"My apologies, Master Winchester, but this is urgent."

"Wheatly?" Sam called worriedly from the bottom of the stairs.

Dean saw then that the steward looked a little frazzled. Wheatly never looked like that unless it was serious. "What happened?" he demanded.

Wheatly swallowed. "A door has opened inside Pandemonium. If we don't close it…" He hesitated but pushed on all the same. "Then, Your Majesty, it's possible Hell could fall."

"Awesome," Dean said. "Let me get my crap."

_~~~~~~~_

_Sam had forgone his suit_ in the urgency to get to Hell but the demons didn't seem to notice their king going casual because they were too occupied with clutching weapons and whispering amongst themselves, some even trembling in fear.

"So, tell me again—what is Pandemonium?" Dean was asking.

Sam rolled his eyes slightly. Of course his brother hadn't bothered to read all the books and maps on the construction of Hell like Sam had, but then, Dean didn't do research unless he had to, so he didn't know why he had expected any differently. "You know Hell is divided into sections, right? Well, Pandemonium is one of them. It's on the outer reaches."

"More precisely, if you'll forgive my interjection, Your Majesty, it's where all the ancient evils reside," Wheatly said. "We always keep the gate into Pandemonium locked and guarded but when we got the alarm that something was stirring past the gate, there was no guard there when we went to investigate."

"Great," Dean grumbled. "And what exactly do we have to look forward to if something's stirring out there?"

Wheatly stopped and turned to meet Dean's eyes. "Anything you could imagine in your worst nightmares, Master Winchester."

"Awesome," Dean sighed, and pulled his katana from over his shoulder.

"And you have no idea what might have gotten loose?" Cas asked, brow pinched with worry.

"No," Wheatly said grimly. "Luckily the gate leading into Pandemonium is still closed for the time being, but the fact that the guard is gone could mean only two things—either he went into Pandemonium to open one of the cells, or he got taken by whatever got out, and if that's the case, then we have a bigger problem on our hands since that would mean the creature has already breeched the gate and is running free."

There was a bark and Sam looked up to see Juliet, rushing to greet him. He patted her back in greeting and let her come along. She'd proven a good fighting partner and he wanted her at his back if it came to that.

It was a long way to the gate and this part of Hell was hot. Sam noticed Dean tugging uncomfortably at the collar of his leather coat—he'd replaced his other one that had gotten ruined with a black duster that looked even more ridiculous than the biker jacket.

But he didn't have time to dwell on his brother's fashion choices because they were approaching the gate.

Torches burned along their path, lighting the way with hellfire, but this area of Hell was still full of shadows. Sam practically felt Juliet's hackles rise beside him and she growled low in her chest. With his own powers, he could pick up on the darkness of the place, sensing, not demons, but older things…things that probably made demons look about as dangerous as kittens. He swallowed hard and reached to the back of his belt for his angel blade.

When they finally got to the gate Sam didn't know what he'd been expecting, but "gate" was less of an appropriate term than "vault door". The corridor they were walking down dead-ended at a huge steel gate with an intricate locking system, runes and sigils carved into it.

Winston, Sam's captain of the guard, and several other demons, stood in front of it. Winston had a demon sword at his belt and a spear in his hand, and looked like he was trying to hide a little relief when he saw Sam approaching.

"Your Majesty," he greeted, nodding respectfully to Sam and the others.

"Any other occurrences while I was gone, Winston?" Wheatly asked the other demon.

Winston shook his head. "Heard a little stirring in there, but otherwise quiet. Don't trust it for a second, though, my lord. The alarms wouldn't have gone off if we didn't have something to worry about."

Sam pressed his lips into a determined line. "Well, I suppose the only thing to do now is go in there and see what we're dealing with before we can figure out how to fix it."

"Sam," Cas stepped forward worriedly. "We have no idea what we're walking into. The things in there…trust me when I say that you and Dean have never faced anything like them."

Sam nodded. "I know, Cas, but what else can we do? If we don't fix this then, eventually, whatever is in there is going to get through that gate and then we'll have an even bigger problem to deal with. We need to contain this issue now before it gets out of hand."

Cas didn't look pleased, but he nodded reluctantly in agreement.

Dean stepped forward with his unsheathed blade propped against his shoulder, the light from the hellfire dancing off of it. "Right, let's do this." His eyes flicked black.

Wheatly nodded and turned to Winston. "We'll accompany them."

Winston nodded back and handed Wheatly his spear before drawing his sword and turning to the other guards. "Stay here and do not let anything out unless we say so, understand?"

"Sir," they all saluted.

"Let's go," Sam said.

Wheatly turned the lever on the door and there was a huge groaning as it slid open. Wheatly took a torch from the wall and carried it inside as he and Winston stepped in first.

Sam and the others were close behind, and the gate was closed at their backs.

"I already don't like this," Dean muttered.

"Nor do I," Cas said, clutching his angel blade tightly. "I had to cross part of Pandemonium when I went to rescue Sam from the Cage. I can assure you that whatever has gotten out is not going to play nice."

Sam swallowed hard trying not to think too much about his friend traversing this part of Hell alone to rescue him. Wheatly lit some more torches and soon they stood in a sizable patch of light. Sam looked around. They were on rocky terrain, a wall stretching out into the darkness on either side at their back, separating Pandemonium from the other areas in Hell. Oddly enough, while it had been hot on the way here, now that they were past the gate, it was almost chilly. Cold and dark. Sam tried not to think too much about how it reminded him of the Cage. Even Juliet didn't seem to like it. Her hackles were risen, but she didn't growl, simply pressing herself against Sam's thigh. He reached down to give her a comforting scratch behind the ears.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Dean asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over their party. "You guys want to stay here longer than we have to?"

That was motivation enough and Wheatly took the lead. "This way. We need to determine which cell was opened."

Wheatly and Winston both held torches but they barely lit the way enough for Sam. There were too many shadowed places—anything could be hiding anywhere down here and the thought sent a chill down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

They came toward a rocky cliff face that stretched beyond the reach of the light.

"There are some cells built in here," Wheatly told him. "Where Lucifer locked things up a long time ago that were too much trouble."

Sam didn't like those implications. If Lucifer hadn't wanted something running around then it must have been bad.

As they drew closer to the cliff face, Sam felt a surge of darkness. He didn't know how else to describe it. Juliet growled and Dean and Cas glanced around, instinctively moving to stand back to back as if they too sensed it.

They all halted as Wheatly raised the torch that lit up the cliff face and gasped.

"Holy hell," the Steward breathed in a very uncharacteristic loss of composure. "Sire…"

Sam hurried to the cliff face, Cas and Dean close behind him as they all stared at an opening. It wasn't so much a door as what looked like a broken seal. There were runes decorating the opening, but some were cracked, and the seal itself was lying broken at their feet.

"What is this?" Dean demanded.

Wheatly swallowed hard. "It's the Shedim."

Sam frowned, but from the look on both demon's faces, and Cas' as well, he had a feeling this was not at all a good thing.

"What's a Shedim?" he asked.

"Not _a_, there's more than one," Cas said bitterly. "They're old, like the Leviathans, but not as hard to kill, or as smart, thankfully. God locked them away in Hell eons ago, before creation."

"So, they're not demons?" Dean asked.

Wheatly shook his head, looking almost insulted at the thought of comparing himself with those monsters. "No. They are not demons. They are uncontrollable savages. There's a reason they're locked up so tightly even in Pandemonium. I suppose we should have made it a priority to check on the seals and wards down here more frequently."

"They should not have broken," Cas said thoughtfully, as he studied the runes carved into the stone.

"Anything can ware away with time," Wheatly commented, but even he didn't really seem convinced. Sam furrowed his brow.

"The more important question is," Dean said, glancing around at the surrounding darkness. "If these things aren't in there, where are they?"

Juliet's ears pricked up and she tensed by Sam's side, eyes glowing red. "What is it, girl?" he asked worriedly.

She gave a snarling bark, looking up at the cliff, and several small rocks tumbled down on top of them. Wheatly and Winston raised their torches and the light illuminated several shapes crawling down the rocks.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean shouted as they all leapt back from the cliff, brandishing weapons as the demons tossed the torches aside to have both hands on their weapons, leaving a small area illuminated.

"Stay in the light," Winston called. "They prefer the shadows."

One of the Shedim leapt at them just as he said that and Dean lashed out with his katana, taking its head clean off. It didn't stop the thing's body from twitching and its head from gurgling though.

"Yeah, I don't think they're gonna care too much at the moment," Dean growled. "Probably haven't eaten in millennia, right?"

Winston pressed his lips into a thin line. "No."

"Dean, what's our next move gonna be?" Sam called as they all stood back to back waiting for another attack.

"How many you think are out there, Wheatly…ballpark?" Dean asked conversationally.

"My guess?" the steward said blandly. "Over a hundred definitely. Possibly over two. I don't think anyone ever bothered to do a headcount."

"Great," Dean said. "We're not gonna be able to fight them all off."

"No," Sam agreed. "Think we can make a run for it? I think our only chance now is to get back behind the gate."

"I think you're probably right. We all good with that?" Dean called to the others.

There were nods of affirmation. Wheatly and Winston reached to pick up the torches again and they pressed tighter together, all of them back to back. Sam could feel more than see the Shedim surrounding them in the shadows. Dean glanced around at the others.

"Let's just go slow, stay within the light—"

Three Shedim leapt out of the darkness before he had even finished talking. Dean brought up his sword and Wheatly lashed out with his spear. The third one came at Sam but before he could raise his own blade, Juliet leapt at it and ripped out the creature's throat. They were ugly things. Humanoid, but in shape only. Nothing about them was human. Even demons had been human once—these never had. Their skin was pale and mottled, their eyes milky white, and their fingers had long black claws on the tips. But even those weren't quite as bad as the fangs that bulged out of their elongated jaws like some kind of deep-sea fish. Needle sharp and glistening black. This one was still snapping, as Juliet tore at it.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled and Sam turned away, quickly glancing up to see more of the Shedim surging toward them, bolder now that they seemed to realize the light wasn't going to hurt them. "Come on, let's go!"

They ran full out toward the gate, Winston and Wheatly facing forward with the torches and Sam, Dean and Cas, retreating backwards to keep the Shedim off their backs.

The monsters were gaining though and Sam forced himself to concentrate, feeling for them with his powers and then shoving out, trying to manipulate them like he could with demons.

Nothing happened. He caught his breath, and lashed out a hand, swiping a couple away with just his telekinetic powers instead.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked.

"I can't control them like I can with demons," Sam said.

"They're not demons," Cas told him and lashed out with his blade, as two more Shedim came for him. Another came for Sam and he turned to take it out, before seeing movement in the corner of his eye.

"Dean!" Sam yelled as his brother turned to cut down one of the monsters and left his back open to another. Sam slammed his blade through the skull of the one he was fighting and turned to take out the one about to attack Dean, but Juliet was already on it, bearing the monster to the ground and tearing it to pieces with what seemed to be great prejudice.

"Good girl," Sam breathed, before something snagged him from behind. He cried out, as claws dug into his clothing and his skin and hauled him back so quickly he was out of the circle of light and lying on his back before he knew what was happening.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled.

"Dean!" Sam lashed out with his blade, catching several of the Shedim but more piled on. His blood was soaking through the slashes in his clothes and seemed to excite them like sharks. He was swarmed with the monsters now, unable to move. His blade was useless, his arms pinned as the monsters yanked on them as if they wanted to tear him apart. Sam heard Juliet's frantic barking and growling, saw her glowing eyes somewhere in the sea of Shedim, then heard her yelp of pain. He cried out, fighting to free himself as he heard Dean and Cas shouting for him too, but his struggles only made the Shedim hold onto him tighter, raking their claws through his flesh.

And then one finally sank its teeth in. Sam felt a bright flash of pain in the meat of his shoulder and cried out at the shocking agony. It felt like a thousand burning needles were being shoved into his flesh.

The little light he could still see flickered from his vision, and he was sure this was the end of Sam Winchester, King of Hell.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean heard Sam cry out and turned just in time to see him get yanked back out of the circle of light, the growls and hisses of the Shedim only raising in volume as they hauled their victim further away.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted, as he slashed another of the creatures across the neck and watched Juliet leap after her master.

"Wheatly, get the torches over here, we need light!" Dean shouted as he and Cas rushed toward the writhing mass of pale creatures. Sam's pained cries spurred Dean on. His eyes flicked black and he swept bodies left and right with his sword, Cas right beside him. Wheatly and Winston arrived soon after, trying to help them unearth Sam, but the Shedim didn't seem to be afraid of the light anymore.

"This isn't going to work," Cas gritted out, lashing out at a Shedim that clawed at his arm. "Everyone, shut your eyes!"

He held up his hand and started glowing, his angelic powers humming so loudly it nearly made Dean's eardrums burst. He gritted his teeth and ducked his head, shielding his eyes as a bright flash emanated from Cas.

There were angry shrieks and hisses and as Dean cracked his eyes open again, he saw the Shedim retreating. Cas cut his powers and slumped, looking slightly winded from the effort.

Dean turned instantly to the spot the Shedim had vacated. Now all that was there was Sam lying on his back, Juliet crawling toward him, favoring a leg.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted and lunged toward his brother, skidding to his knees beside Sam as the others gathered as well.

Sam looked terrible, his clothing practically shredded, long claw marks raking over his torso, and legs—everywhere really. But his left shoulder and the side of his neck were the worst—blood seeping into the ground beneath him.

Dean cupped Sam's bloody cheek and shook him gently. "Sammy? Sam! Wake up!" All he got was a soft moan.

"Dean, we need to get out of here," Cas warned him, glancing around at the Shedim still waiting in the shadows beyond them. "They won't stay there for long."

Dean pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded, sheathing his sword before he and Cas pulled Sam up and carried him between them.

Juliet staggered to her feet, whimpering, but her whole right flank was torn up, and she couldn't seem to stay upright. Dean bit his lip, actually feeling sorry for the mutt. Before he could say anything though, Winston came over, handing his torch to Wheatly, and picked the hellhound up himself.

"Come on," Dean said.

They hurried the rest of the way to the gate which was opened promptly when they called to the guard. The gathered demons looked on, wide-eyed, as they came in carrying the king between them and Dean turned to glower at them.

"This gate does not open; do you hear me?" he ordered.

"Yes, sir," they replied smartly.

They hurried back through the long passageways. Even with Wheatly taking them through shortcuts, it took far longer than Dean wanted it to to get back to Hell Proper where their quarters were. All that time, Sam was a dead weight between him and Cas, still bleeding and not showing any signs of consciousness which was worrying. He'd been hurt badly, yeah, but his complete unresponsiveness could not mean anything good.

Once they got back to the populated areas of Hell, Wheatly tried to do as much damage control as he could, but some of the demons still caught sight of Sam, some looking horrified and others all too interested. Dean growled at these, flashing his eyes black in warning and they backed off.

Finally, they got to their suite where they deposited Sam onto his bed.

"We need hot water, bandages—" he started to say but Wheatly held up a hand.

"Don't worry, Master Winchester, I've got it."

"Thanks," Dean said gratefully, for once genuinely thankful they had such an attentive steward.

Winston brought Juliet in and laid her down on a blanket on one side of the room. The hellhound looked distressed and whimpered as she tried to get to her feet, but Winston settled her with a gentle pat and a few soft words. She laid back down reluctantly and started licking at her wounds.

"Sean should tend to her—I doubt she'll let anyone else try," Winston said wryly. "What do you wish me to do, Master Winchester?"

"Go handle the situation with the guards. I want no less than four demons on that gate at all times," Dean said.

Winston nodded with a salute and left the room.

Dean turned his attention back to Sam as he and Cas started to undress him to get to access his wounds, peeling the shredded layers away from the vicious slashes that covered his body.

"Why isn't he conscious?" Dean worried, giving up on Sam's jacket and shirt and simply cutting them to get them off easier. "That whole trip back he's been out."

"I don't know," Cas said grimly as he reached up to place a hand over Sam's forehead, closing his eyes. "It's hard for me to tell exactly what's going on with him now after the changes you went through from the contract. But…"

Just as the angel's musing trailed off, Dean peeled Sam's shirt away from his left shoulder and sucked in a deep breath.

"What the hell?" he demanded.

Cas glanced down as Dean stared at the wound. First of all, it was a mess, it looked like someone had tried to put Sam's shoulder through a meat grinder. There were tons of punctures—from those things' teeth, Dean realized—and on top of that it looked like they had gnawed on him.

But even worse than that, was the fact that the flesh surrounding it had turned a deep purple, almost black, and in his experience, Dean knew that was not a good thing.

"Were those things poison or something?" he demanded.

The door was pushed open again and Wheatly came back in with a tray of hot water and bandages. His eyes widened slightly as he saw the exposed wound.

"Master Winchester, was he bitten?" Wheatly asked sharply.

"Yeah, I'd say so," Dean snapped, turning toward the Steward. "Why? What the hell is wrong with my brother?"

Wheatly set the tray down on the bedside table, his face somewhat paler than usual. "The Shedim's bite is poison, especially to demons, or, those influenced with demonic powers—like you and His Majesty."

"So, you're saying those things poisoned him?" Dean demanded, heart pounding in his chest. "How the hell do we cure it? Is there an antidote?"

"I don't know," Wheatly said apologetically. "If there is it will most likely be in the records with the runes we need to remake the seal."

Dean glanced up at the angel. "Cas?" he nearly pleaded.

The angel pressed his lips into a thin line and reached out to hover his hand over Sam's shoulder. His palm glowed, but after a moment of intense concentration on Cas' part, he pulled his hand away, eyes dark. "I…can't heal him. I'm not able to get past his demonic signature. Even then, I'm not sure I would be able to do anything."

Dean felt as sick as Cas looked. He swallowed hard, but drew his shoulders back, saving face in front of the steward. "Then we'll just need to figure out a way that we can. Wheatly, go find what we need to close up that seal and to heal Sam."

Wheatly nodded, bowing slightly. "As you wish, Master Winchester. I will return as soon as I find anything of use."

"Oh, and Wheatly, before you do…" Dean said, stopping the demon before he left the room. "Let the court know that the king is injured, but don't tell them how bad. We don't need another coup on our hands."

"Of course," Wheatly said. "I will make sure this does not turn into a state of emergency."

"Not yet anyway," Dean muttered as the steward left. If the Shedim got into Hell Proper, they were going to have more problems than a demonic riot on their hands.

He turned back to his brother, then looked up at Cas, seeing the angel's helplessness reflect his own. "Let's do what we can for him at least."

Cas nodded and together they set to cleaning Sam's injuries, saving the bite wound in his shoulder for last. Once they had finished all the minor lacerations, Dean got Cas to help him hold Sam up as he flushed the bite wound, hoping that might help a little, and would at least stave off further infection. This finally got a reaction out of Sam, even if it was one Dean would rather have done without. His younger brother's eyes fluttered and he moaned in pain from the procedure, head lolling to one side. Cas held him tighter, glowing a little brighter than usual, as he tried to soothe the younger Winchester with his grace. That at least seemed to be something Cas could still do, or maybe it was just his familiar presence. Dean could tell that his friend was distressed over the fact that it seemed he could no longer heal them, but it wasn't his fault. It was just an unfortunate side-effect of their choice.

Once Dean had flushed as much as he could from the wound, they bandaged Sam up and tucked him under blankets. He felt cool and clammy to the touch and Dean wanted to keep him warm. He went over to the grate and stoked up a fire, hoping to warm the room a little.

A whimper sounded out and Dean turned to Sam but saw it was Juliet instead. She was trying to get up again to reach her master. Dean sighed and strode over to her.

"Come on, girl, you can't help him right now in your condition. Let's get you to Sean."

He bent as if to pick her up but she growled and snapped at him. Dean leapt back quicker than he would like to admit.

"Dean, she's not going to leave Sam's side, you know how she is," Cas said wearily, cleaning up the dirty cloths to take into the bathroom.

Dean muttered under his breath. "Fine. We'll bring Sean here then."

He went to the door to their suite and called a guard that Wheatly must have had left stationed there, telling him to fetch the hellhound wrangler.

Back in the suite, he went to the fridge to grab a beer before he turned to the sidebar instead, deciding he needed something a little stiffer. He poured a whisky and glanced through Sam's open door, seeing Cas sitting on the side of the bed, his hand on Sam's forehead, shoulders hunched. Why the hell could nothing ever be easy for them? It always seemed that just when things started to get better, something would come along and sideline them. He supposed he shouldn't have thought it would be any different now that they were ruling Hell, but still, you'd think that would give them a little immunity.

Sean came and patched up Juliet, giving her a treat, and telling her what a good girl she was for protecting her master. Dean rolled his eyes slightly, but he was secretly grateful for the hellhound. After all, he grudgingly admitted, she had protected Sam on multiple occasions when he wouldn't have been able to get there in time. And Sammy did love the mutt, even if Dean still couldn't get over the glaring fact that Juliet was a hellhound.

After Sean left, Juliet wouldn't stop whimpering and trying to stand until Dean gave up and helped her up onto the bed where she finally shut up and simply laid there with her chin resting across Sam's knees. Dean sighed and pulled a chair over to the side of the bed, as Cas paced restlessly.

"I'm going to go help Wheatly in the archives," the angel finally told him. "Let me know if anything changes."

"I will," Dean said and sat back, taking a long drink of his whisky. Sam whimpered in his sleep. Juliet's ears twitched, and Dean wanted to punch his fist through a wall.

"Come on, man, you can't leave me here all alone with a bunch of demons," Dean finally said quietly. "I would suck at being king and you know it. I'd hate to have to give up my sword for all the paperwork."

Sam didn't respond and Dean leaned forward, elbows on his knees and face in his hands. This contract was supposed to have kept these situations from happening—or so they had hoped. But Dean supposed that had just been wishful thinking. In the end, it would be absurd to think that they could really go any amount of time at all without the threat of losing each other.

_~~~~~~~_

_After getting some directions_ from one of the demons, Castiel found his way toward the archives. As he went he tried to get the image of Sam lying badly injured out of his head. Yes, it certainly wasn't the first time he'd seen one of the brothers badly hurt (and knowing them, probably wouldn't be the last) but the thought that he couldn't heal them wore on him heavily. It was one thing seeing his friends, his family, hurt, it was another to be able to do nothing for them. He had suspected this might be the case, but there hadn't really been occasion to see if his theory proved true before now. Sam and Dean had heightened healing abilities, so if they got injured on a hunt, unless it was particularly bad, they would heal up usually within a couple days, in the same way he would. Castiel didn't think that would be the case this time, however, not with the added poison from the Shedim in Sam's system. This wasn't something the contract was going to fix. They would have to figure out a way to do that on their own.

When he finally found the archives, he was actually a bit surprised by what he saw. He didn't know what he'd expected, but he supposed a library wasn't exactly it. After all, you didn't really expect Hell to be what could be termed academic.

But it was a library nonetheless, not much different from the one in the Men of Letters bunker. Except it had everything from regular cloth or leather-bound books to large, illuminated medieval tomes, to scrolls. There was also a whole wall dedicated to file cabinets and a card catalogue. Castiel spent a moment looking around before he turned to Wheatly who was leaning over a large book set out on one of the cluttered tables in the middle of the room.

The Steward of Hell looked up rather sharply as he realized Castiel was there. "Oh, angel. Is all well with His Majesty?"

Castiel stiffened slightly, annoyed at still being addressed as simply 'angel' by the Steward but let it go. "He's resting. I came to offer my assistance. It looks like you might have a lot to get through."

Wheatly sighed and waved a hand around the room. "Yes, well, there's not a lot of categorizing or organization here. It's deplorable really, I've been meaning to set myself the task of making it more usable, I just haven't really had the time with everything else." He seemed to realize he was rambling, and snapped his mouth shut. "But that will not do us any good at the moment."

Castiel stepped over to one of the shelves, reaching out to run his fingers over the spines. "Where do you suggest we start?"

"Probably as old as we can get," Wheatly said and directed Castiel to the section with the scrolls. "How are you with pre-Adamic languages?"

"A little rusty, but I think I can manage," Castiel said and began pulling scrolls out to look at them.

"It's better than nothing, I suppose," Wheatly said as the two dove in.

It was the better part of a couple hours before they came across even a mention of the Shedim or anything that might be useful.

"Ah, I think this may be something," Wheatly said as he turned the scroll he had been reading so Castiel could see it.

The angel squinted at the messy script, but finally made out some details. "This is an account of God locking the Shedim away originally."

"Yes," Wheatly said. "Unfortunately, there's nothing about the runes used to seal them in. This is mostly just an historical account."

Castiel sighed heavily. "Then it doesn't do anything to help at all." He reached for the next scroll and unrolled it, before his eyes widened. "Wait, this…"

Wheatly glanced over at his scroll and leaned closer, relief on his face. "Yes! That's it!"

Castiel looked down at a sketch that looked just like the broken seal on the door in the mountain the Shedim had gotten out of. He spent a few minutes studying it, before he rolled the scroll again.

"We should tell Dean we found it."

They returned to the Winchesters' suite and found Dean right where Castiel had left him, sitting next to Sam's bed. Sam looked unchanged, except for a little flush of fever on his cheeks, which did not give Castiel confidence.

Dean looked up as they came in and stood, body taught with nervous energy.

"Did you find something to cure him?"

"Not yet," Castiel told him gently. "But we did find the schematic for the seal so we can lock the Shedim back up."

"I don't give a damn about that when Sam is lying there half dead!" Dean shouted.

Juliet whimpered and raised her head from where she rested next to Sam, and Dean ran a hand over his face. "Sorry, I just…"

"I know," Castiel said, understanding all too well. "We're still looking for a cure. And we _will_ find one, Dean. But we also need to get the Shedim locked up as soon as we can."

Dean wet his lips, and nodded, taking the scroll from Castiel to look over it himself. "So, this thing, we just carve it into a rock and stick it over the cave cell door?"

"Yes, in theory," Wheatly said. "That won't be the problem, though, Master Winchester; getting all the Shedim back into their prison will be the hard part."

"Son of a bitch," Dean growled then frowned and turned back to Wheatly. "And I guess you're gonna say we're gonna need the power of God to get them back?"

"No…" the steward said slowly. "God locked them away in Pandemonium originally, but this is not the first time they have gotten out either."

Dean and Castiel both turned to the steward. "It's not?" Castiel demanded.

Wheatly shook his head. "No. One of the Princes of Hell was foolish enough to try and free them once, but Lucifer was able to lock them up again using this sigil."

"And do you know how that was done?" Dean asked.

Wheatly shook his head. "That was before my time—before the time of most of the demons here. However, there may be an account of it in the archives."

"Then we'll look for that too, while we look for something for Sam." Castiel turned back to Dean. "I will continue to help Wheatly. Let me know if you need anything."

Dean nodded, looking helpless, as he slumped back into the chair beside Sam's bed. Castiel clenched his jaw and forced himself to turn around. If he couldn't help here, he could help somewhere else. He was certainly not going to let Sam die for this.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a long night. Dean nodded off by Sam's bed a couple times, only to be woken by either his brother or the hellhound whimpering. Sam had contracted a fever from the poison, feeling hotter than he should have. Curious, Dean took his temperature and found it was pushing 109. He didn't seem to be suffering more than he usually would for a low-grade fever though, so Dean just continued to watch him, waiting to see if there was a change. With all the changes to their physiology due to the contract, running a high fever was probably just par for the course now. Sam's new immune system trying to fight off the poison in his veins.

He got up to make himself a cup of coffee—Irish—and returned to Sam's bedside just as Cas and Wheatly came back in, carrying stacks of books and scrolls.

"Did you find something?" Dean asked, instantly on his feet.

Cas set his armload of research on Sam's desk. "We found a lot of things that may work."

"Lay it on me," Dean said eagerly.

Wheatly handed him a large tome with a certain page marked. "This is one of our chronicles, Master Winchester, kept faithfully even now. This one details how Lucifer managed to lock the Shedim into their prison after the previous breach. That was when the runes and the seal were created. It appeared Lucifer came up with them himself to make sure they never escaped again."

Dean scanned through the text. Most of it was an eye-rolling account by an obvious Lucifer loyalist about the fallen archangel's bravery and power. But there were some useful parts as well. He tapped his fingers under one of the lines of antiquated English. "It says here that Lucifer used the 'Light of the Morningstar' to force the Shedim back into their prison? What the hell is that?"

"It's his angelic power," Cas supplied. "Just a poetic description of it. That must have been why I was able to force them back when I used mine."

"Only problem is, your light isn't nearly to the power of an archangel—no offense, Cas, but even doing that back there winded you pretty good."

The angel pressed his lips tightly into a thin line. "Yes, I am aware of that. But unless we call more angels down here to help—and I really don't think that's a good idea considering what just happened with Naomi and Kipling—then we don't really have another option."

Wheatly was standing off to one side, silent during the conversation, but with a thoughtful look on his face. "Actually, Master Winchester, I think I may have a solution for that."

"Yeah?" Dean asked quirking an eyebrow skeptically.

Wheatly motioned to the door. "Come with me to the armory. I will show you."

Dean glanced back at Sam hesitantly, and the steward caught his look. "Don't worry, the guards are handpicked by me and they will not let anyone in here. Nor will Juliet, even in her current condition."

Juliet's head came up at the mention of her name and she gave a small rumble in agreement. Dean hated to leave Sam but he needed to see what Wheatly was talking about too. He nodded to Cas and the three of them left the suite, locking the door behind them and headed toward the armory.

"I'm not sure if you're aware of this, Master Winchester, but we have a second armory for more…specialized items, things that we don't have need of on a daily basis."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "How come this is the first I'm hearing about this?"

"His Majesty knows, I assumed he would have told you."

Dean detected a small smirk in the steward's voice and he _humphed_ indignantly.

"You know, Jeeves, I am the Knight around here, I kind of handle the weapons."

"And you will now have the opportunity to do just that," Wheatly said as they entered the armory, crossing to the back of the room where Wheatly pulled out a key ring and inserted one of the antique and intricate keys into the lock on the door there.

The room opened, dusty, and Wheatly snapped his fingers, torches lighting up around the room. Dean stepped inside, looking around with awe, despite himself.

"Holy crap, this is even better than I expected."

Half the stuff looked like weaponry you would find out of a fantasy movie or video game. In fact, Dean was pretty sure one of the swords hanging on a wall was Excalibur or maybe another magic sword. There were so many cool things, that Dean honestly felt like a kid in a candy shop—once they didn't have a crisis hanging over their head, he planned to come in here and do a proper catalogue of everything.

He then caught sight of a very large gun—well, no, it wasn't really a gun, but it shot some kind of projectile, that much Dean could tell. It looked like something out of a Jules Verne novel, but way cooler and probably way more deadly.

"What is this?" he asked, eyes widening as he took in the weapon.

"That is an Anti-Anomaly Portable Projectile Mortar Launcher," Wheatly said.

Dean stared at him blankly. "Uh, what?"

The demon sighed. "Put simply, it's like a supernaturally charged grenade launcher."

"A grenade launcher?" Dean asked, hands practically itching as he went to pick it up, only for Cas to grab his arm and steer him away.

"Dean, no. Now is not the time," he growled.

Dean grumbled, and saw Cas and Wheatly share a look. He had a feeling there had been a conspiracy surrounding why he hadn't been told about this room. Bastards.

"This is the item I had in mind," Wheatly said as they got to the back of the room.

Dean took in the item Wheatly had pointed out, a bit unimpressed, especially after seeing everything else they had at their disposal. "This? Wheatly, this is a lantern."

"It's not just any lantern, Master Winchester," Wheatly said as he took up the ancient looking iron lantern. It was hanging from a pole and had its shutters tightly closed. The whole thing was covered in what looked to be Enochian sigils. "This contains Lucifer's light. After the Shedim got out, he wanted to have a failsafe to make sure it didn't happen again if he wasn't there. So he stored some of his light in this lantern—or so the story goes." Wheatly shrugged and turned to Cas. "The angel can probably tell us if it's not just a theory."

Cas took the lantern from the demon with a look of scrutiny. "It is possible for an angel to bottle their power as well as their grace with the right spellwork and the sigils here seem legitimate. However, we have no way of knowing how much power this thing has or if it hasn't already been used up at some point."

"Well, for now, it's all we have," Dean said. "And at least we _do_ have it. Now we just need to be able to get all those freaks back into their prison and reapply the seal."

"The crafters here will make a new seal," Wheatly said. "Making sure all the Shedim are in the prison will be the difficult part."

"Well, any stragglers will meet my sword," Dean said simply.

"You had better be sure they do, Master Winchester," Wheatly said grimly. "If any are left on the outside, it's possible they will try to break their fellows out." He was silent for a moment, contemplating something before he spoke again. "I did not mention this before in light of your understandable distress over His Majesty's condition, Master Winchester, but that seal was made to be unbreakable. It would not have simply worn away with time and left a weak spot for the Shedim to break through."

"So what are you saying?" Dean demanded, though he already knew.

"I'm saying the only way that seal would have broken is if someone broke it. Deliberately," Wheatly said firmly.

"So you're saying we have a traitor who has no sense of self-preservation?" Dean demanded.

"What about the guard?" Cas asked. "We never did find the gate guard who was supposed to be guarding the way into Pandemonium."

Wheatly shook his head. "By all accounts, Dennis was loyal to the Winchester regime. After the riots, Winston and I made sure to hand pick only those demons who were loyal to you for any posts of import. Though, I will be the first to admit that loyalty is hard to come by when it comes to demons."

"He could have been forced by someone else," Dean mused, starting to pace. "After all, there are still demons around who fought against us. They've been quiet but, like you said, it wouldn't take them much to be pushed over the edge. No matter how stupid the idea might be."

"Let's deal with sealing the Shedim away and getting Sam better before we look into the possibility of a traitor," Cas said quietly. "A witch hunt will do us no good right now."

Dean nodded in agreement as they left the armory with the lantern safely in Cas' care, and Wheatly locked the door again. "And did you find a cure for Sam?"

Cas sighed. "There is no specific cure for a Shedim bite. However, we did find several antidotes linked to demonic poisoning. All of it is essentially antivenom, which means…"

"Which means we're gonna have to milk a Shedim," Dean finished roughly. "You think a severed head would work?"

"It's the only thing I can think of," Cas replied grimly. "Honestly, I think it's only because of Sam still being mostly human that has kept the poison from taking him over thus far."

Dean swallowed hard, sick to his stomach at the thought. "Okay, we need to do this now then. Wheatly, when can we get that seal done?"

"It's already being put together," Wheatly assured him. "It won't be much longer."

"Great," Dean said. "Get me Winston, I'm gonna talk to him about getting me a guard ready. We're gonna need help holding off and herding the Shedim. I'm guessing Cas is the only one who can use the lantern without burning his eyes out."

"Yes," the angel said simply.

"Wheatly, gather everything else we're going to need for the antivenom. I want that ready when we get back."

The steward nodded and was about to go do just that when they came across a bunch of demons in the hallway.

"What the hell do you want?" Dean demanded.

He recognized several of the demons as ones who had been standing with Kipling before it was found out that the crossroads was actually playing all of them.

"We heard about the king," one of the demons said, folding her arms over her chest.

"Yeah, and what about him?" Dean challenged.

"That he's injured—dying," another said.

Dean growled and reached for his katana, though didn't draw it. "The king is not dying, so don't you go trying to take his throne yet—you still have to go through me." He flicked his eyes black for effect.

"And what about the Shedim?" the female demon asked. "Those things could literally wipe out the few of us that are left."

"And that's not gonna happen on my watch," Dean said firmly, straightening his shoulders. "A lot of you may be scum and only loyal because you have nowhere better to go, but this is still my kingdom and my brother's kingdom, and we'll fight for you even if some of you don't deserve it. Because that's what being a king is about. Sam would be doing it if he was able to, and I'm not going to let his kingdom fall just because he's currently indisposed."

Some of the demons in the group looked skeptical but others were nodding reluctantly. Dean gave them all one last glower for good measure. "Now go do something useful instead of getting in my way."

He pushed through them without another word, Cas and Wheatly following close behind. "Demons, I swear," he muttered, then glanced back at Wheatly. "No offense, Jeeves."

"None taken, I'm inclined to agree with you," the steward said.

Dean couldn't help a small smile in surprise. They got back to the suite and Wheatly parted to go run the errands Dean had assigned him. The guards were still there and the door was still locked. Dean opened it and they went inside, Cas placing the lantern carefully in one corner of the room where hopefully no one would accidently knock it over.

"Now we just need to get that seal finished and have Winston get us a guard detail," Dean said before glancing over at an approaching shape.

He frowned to see Juliet limping toward him and Cas, barking before insistently heading back toward Sam's room.

Dean didn't need any more coaxing. He ran to the room with Cas at his heels, coming to a stop as he saw Sam thrashing on the bed as if in the throws of a seizure.

"Cas!" Dean shouted and rushed forward, trying to capture Sam's flailing limbs and calm him. He was tangled in the blankets, and as Sam finally calmed a little, Dean extricated him from them.

Cas was frowning as he pressed his hand against Sam's forehead. "Dean, he's burning up. At least 115 degrees!"

Dean could tell, Sam was throwing off major heatwaves that Dean could feel even a couple feet away. He peeled the last of the sheets away from Sam's sweaty skin and reached for a cool cloth from the bowl by the bed to help ease the fever for all the good it would do.

He dabbed Sam's face and his neck, before noticing something peeking out from under the bandages. He peeled them away from the wound and nearly lost his lunch at the sight.

"Son of a bitch," he breathed, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth.

The wound was black, and leaking horrible grey pus. The blackness was seeping through Sam's veins, branching out from the wound over his shoulder, neck, and chest. Just exposing it to the air seemed to cause Sam pain. His face scrunched up and he let out a strangled sound in his throat.

Juliet, who had planted herself at Dean's feet, growled as the wound was revealed, probably the smell agitating her. The hair on the back of her neck was on end, and Dean couldn't really blame her.

"We need to get that antivenom fast," Dean said.

Cas bit his lip, turning away after a moment to wring out and refresh the cloth. "This wouldn't have happened if I could heal him."

"Cas, you can't beat yourself up about that," Dean said, and finally pressed the bandages over the wound again. There was nothing he could do for his brother right now. "Even if you could heal him, you may not be able to heal _this."_

"Yes, but what happens next time if it's not a poisoning? If one of you is fatally wounded and I—"

Cas cut himself off as the door opened and Wheatly came in with Winston. Both looked harried and Dean instantly knew something was wrong.

"What is it now?" he demanded.

"It's the Shedim," Winston said grimly. "They've breached the gate to Pandemonium. They're coming."


	4. Chapter 4

Dean and Cas hurried with Winston and his guards toward the gate that led to the outer areas of Hell. Demons stood around it nervously, weapons held at the ready as every once in a while, the sound of something fleshy ramming into the other side of the gate could be heard.

"The relief was going to the Pandemonium gate to change the guard but when they got there the gate had been busted in and the demons were all dead," Winston explained as they went. "Only two of the relief guard got back here, the others were killed by the Shedim that have broken through."

"Dammit," Dean muttered. He turned to Cas who was carrying the lantern. "We have to do this now. I need any of you who are willing to come and help us fight off the Shedim while we shove them back into their prison. Where is that seal?"

"It's on its way," Winston said.

Not quick enough for Dean. Another shudder rattled the gate, making the gathered demons jump. It was only a matter of time before this one broke as well and Dean wasn't going to let that happen. Those freaks were not going to get into their kingdom.

And Sammy needed the antivenom now. Wheatly had stayed with him promising to do everything he could, but Dean knew that the only thing that they could do now was get the antidote into him. And if he were to make a guess, from Sam's condition, Dean didn't think his brother would last even two more hours without a cure.

So in the meantime, he was going to do what he did best—chop off heads. And while doing so he was going to save their kingdom _and _his little brother.

Winston formed their party of guards, and instructed others to stand outside the gate and close it tight behind them.

"Do not open this until instructed," he commanded his men. "If any Shedim break through, do not let them get past this hallway."

There was confirmation of agreement. Then the demons who had made the new seal arrived, carting the large stone circle between them on a cart.

Dean drew his sword. "Everyone ready?"

There were nods of agreement and the guards at the gate unlocked the doors and threw them open.

A Shedim was already waiting outside of them and lunged forward instantly, fangs ready to sink into the neck of the nearest demon.

Dean surged forward and stabbed it through the throat. "Come on!" he shouted.

They rushed through the hallway, taking down any Shedim that came at them. Some of the demons carried torches, but the Shedim had long since given up fearing those. Dean glanced at the lantern swinging from its pole in Cas' grip and hoped that worked.

Luckily there only seemed to be a few stragglers on their way toward the Pandemonium gate, as most of the Shedim had seemed to retreat back to the darker reaches after eating all of the demons that had been guarding the place. Only pieces were left as well as a lot of blood. Everything else had been dragged off into the shadows.

"Alright, men, you know the plan," Winston commanded as they pushed into Pandemonium, the demons forming a semicircle around Dean and Cas who were at the middle of the group and behind them, the demons carrying the seal. They moved toward the broken cell and formed an aisle to herd the Shedim back into their prison. The demons with the seal were waiting at the back, the seal ready to be set over the door once all the Shedim were either dead or back in there.

Torches were shoved into the dirt, to give them a little illumination, but now it was a waiting game. Dean stood back to back with Cas as the angel stuck the lantern into the ground to have his hands free for fighting. They could hear the Shedim in the darkness, see shadowy figures.

"Come on," Dean muttered. Just one and the fresh blood would send the others running.

The growling hiss sounded from the shadows and one of the Shedim stepped into the torchlight. Dean adjusted his hands on his sword grip, eyes flicking black in anticipation of the fight.

"Come on, you bastard," he growled.

The thing lunged and Dean swept his sword up, stabbing it through the chest. The Shedim screamed as dark black blood flowed down its body.

"Get it in there!" Dean shouted as more shrieks of excitement sounded in the darkness, getting closer.

Two demons grabbed the bleeding Shedim and threw it into the cell.

"Are we using the lantern yet, sir?" one of the demons asked.

"Not yet," Dean said. "I want them all close enough so that the only retreat they'll get is the cell."

It wasn't going to be long. Just like sharks, the Shedim couldn't resist the smell of blood. They surged out of the darkness, several of the demons taking out the first few and adding their bleeding corpses to the pile inside the cell. Other Shedim went in of their own accord, though not before taking a couple of Winston's men out with them.

The ranks closed up, and the demons herded the monsters toward their prison with their spears.

The Shedim poured toward them, and soon their little band would be swamped.

It was time.

Dean turned to Cas who had his angel blade stuck through a Shedim's throat.

"Ready?" he asked the angel.

Cas yanked the blade out and nodded. Dean stepped in front of him and covered his back while Cas turned to the lantern.

"Goggles!" the angel cried.

All the demons, Dean included, whipped out a pair of goggles that the R&D department had quickly put together so that they wouldn't be blinded and helpless when the lantern was in use.

"Now, Cas!" Dean shouted, blinded for a dangerous second by the dark shades.

Cas unlatched the lantern and swung it open.

Blinding light exploded out, illuminating the area for what seemed like miles like the biggest flash bomb Dean had ever seen. Even with the tinted goggles, he had to squint.

The unholy screeching from the Shedim told him this was working however. They surged for the nearest dark cover and that just happened to be their own prison. They nearly bowled over several demons on their way, not caring about anything anymore but getting into the shadows.

Dean laughed as he watched them scramble and as what looked like the last of them poured through the small opening, he shouted out. "Now! Get that seal up now!"

He and Cas rushed forward to help as Winston and his guard picked off the last few stragglers. Dean, Cas and the two demons hefted the seal between them, kicking back the Shedim who were trying to escape, seeming to realize what was happening.

The blinding light was fading and they had only minutes to get everything set before the Shedim simply tried to break out again.

"Oh three," Dean grunted as they hefted the weight. "One…two…"

Cas cried out and was suddenly slammed against the stone wall between the seal and the mountain. The Shedim had reached out and caught the tail of his coat and started yanking him into the crack between the seal and the door of their prison, clawing at the angel for one last meal before they were locked away for good.

"Cas!" Dean cried, gritting his teeth as he tried to heft the seal, making up for Cas' current inability to do so.

"Go! Seal it!" Cas shouted before his arm was yanked into the crack as well. Cas grunted and pried his arm out after a struggle, his sleeve shredded and bloody, then tried to tear their grip on his coat free.

Dean glanced back at Winston and the others but they were fighting one last hurrah against the remaining Shedim who hadn't gotten back into the prison.

"Son of a bitch," Dean gritted, frantic as Cas cried out again, tugging harder against the grip of the Shedim. His blade had been lost next to his feet, but he couldn't reach it as he was currently plastered against the rock face, the monsters doing their best to force him inside, even if it meant folding his spine in half. Dean could smell the angel's blood with his heightened senses and knew he had to act fast.

"Cas, lose the coat!" he grunted, kicking out at one of the Shedim who was reaching for Cas' ankle.

Cas grunted as he tried to shift. "I—can't," he gritted out and Dean saw he was right, the coat was yanked tight under his arms, pinning Cas to the stone.

With a decisive growl, Dean turned to the demons. "Can you hold this for a few seconds?" he asked.

They looked a bit out of breath already, but they nodded, shifting to even out the weight.

"Okay, now!" Dean said, letting his bit drop. The seal dipped, but thankfully didn't crush Cas. Dean snatched up the angel's blade and unceremoniously slid it down the sleeve of Cas' trench coat, first one side and then the other, tearing the coat apart.

"Sorry, man," Dean muttered as he gave it one last slice. The stitches gave, and Cas collapsed forward as his coat was yanked back into the prison to the angry hisses from the Shedim. Dean caught Cas, nearly falling to the ground under his weight, but recovering at the last minute to rush toward the seal, helping the demons lift it into the right spot and hold it there.

"Cas!" Dean shouted.

Staggering to his feet, Cas slapped his hand against the seal and uttered the proper binding spell.

Runes lit up around the outside of the stone and sunk into the rock surrounding it, effectively sealing the Shedim in once more.

There was the sound of one last furious hiss as Winston took out the final Shedim. Its head rolled along the ground to stop directly at Dean's feet. He reached down with a cringe and picked it up gingerly, before handing it to one of the demons.

"Keep this, we need it to save the king's life," he said before he turned to Cas who was leaning against the rocky cliff and panting. The angel's suitcoat and shirt were both in shreds, his back torn from the Shedim's claws. Dean handed him his blade back and gripped his elbow, frowning in concern.

"You okay?"

Cas winced as he straightened up. "I'll live." He glanced down to where a scrap of his coat was still lying on the ground, a remorseful expression coming over his face. "That was my new one too."

"It's okay, man, we'll get you another new one," Dean told him. "Though, if you ask me, I think it's karma."

"Why?" Cas asked.

Dean shrugged. "You and Sam laughed when my favorite coat got ruined. Those kind of things come back to bite you."

Cas rolled his eyes and didn't even bother gracing Dean with an answer, just staggered back toward the others as they made their way back to the gate leading out of Pandemonium.

"Get men to fix this as soon as possible," Dean said tiredly. "And keep the extra guards set. We don't know if there might still be some stragglers we missed."

"I'll handle this, sir," Winston told him. "You should go see to the king."

Dean swallowed hard and nodded. He and Cas took the Shedim head they had collected and hurried back to the Winchesters' suite as quickly as possible.

When they got there Wheatly looked up with genuine relief.

"Master Winchester…angel…I trust the mission was successful?"

Dean dropped the head onto the table with the other supplies for the antivenom. "It did. How is he?"

"Not good," Wheatly admitted, glancing over to Sam's bed as Dean and Cas approached.

Sam was tossing restlessly, a sickly grey pallor to his skin under the flush of fever. Dean noticed with growing apprehension that the dark veins of poison had continued down his arm and across his face now, nearly reaching one eye.

Cas' face was dark as he reached out and touched Sam's forehead. "It's taking him over quickly."

"Then get the antivenom done," Dean snapped, whirling around toward Wheatly. "You know how to do it?"

The steward nodded. "Yes. But we need to drain that wound before we administer it."

"I'll do that, you just get the cure ready," Dean said and went to wash his hands and collect their first aid kit.

Wheatly put on gloves and pried open the mouth of the dead Shedim, swabbing viscous saliva from it into the bowl. Dean swallowed back nausea, but knew it wasn't going to get better from here.

He nearly lost his hold on his stomach as he took the bandage from Sam's wound. It was even worse than it had been before. The pus was soaking the bandage and the smell was horrible.

"Alright," Dean gritted out, swallowing hard. "Cas, I'm gonna need you to hold him down."

Cas moved toward the bed and did so reluctantly but with an air of purpose. Dean steeled himself and placed a towel beneath Sam's shoulder before he took up the scalpel from the kit. He nodded to Cas who leaned his weight against Sam's arms, as Dean started in on the grim task.

It was not a pleasant job. Not that Dean had expected it to be, but it was even worse than he had imagined. Sam cried out the instant Dean lanced the wound, jerking in Cas' grip. Juliet didn't take kindly to Sam hurting and started barking in distress until Dean turned to glower at her.

"I'm helping him, okay? Stop growling at me!"

Amazingly, that shut her up and she whimpered, resting her head against Sam's knee again as he shuddered and cried out weakly while Dean continued with his horrid job.

The amount of puss that came out of Sam's wound was enough to make him want to vomit for a full week, but once it was just blood flowing out, Dean eagerly threw the filthy gauze onto the fire in the grate then went back to wash out the wound thoroughly.

By the time he had done all he could and taped fresh bandages over the wound, Wheatly had finished the antivenom.

"Here we are, Master Winchester," the steward said, filling a syringe. "Now let us just hope this works."

Dean took the syringe from the demon and swabbed the crook of Sam's arm before inserting the needle and releasing the hopeful cure into his system.

For a few seconds, they all waited with baited breath, not sure what was supposed to happen. And for a while nothing did happen, until Sam started to twitch, then groan, then let out a strangled scream as his body began to convulse.

Dean, Cas and Wheatly all threw themselves on Sam before he could tumble off the bed. Dean gripped his brother's wrist as he tried to hold him tightly.

"Come on, Sammy, don't do this," he pleaded. "Come on, kiddo."

It seemed like forever, before Sam finally went limp on the bed, dangerously still.

The three of them stepped back, all staring at the invalid, not breathing, none of them wanting to voice any fears. Juliet whined and pressed her nose under Sam's limp arm.

"Cas?" Dean asked finally, voice shaky as there seemed to still be no change after the long minute they stood there.

Cas seemed to hesitate himself before he reached out and touched Sam's forehead, closing his eyes. Dean waited, roiling with inner agony, until Cas opened his eyes again and let out an exhalation of relief.

"It's working," he breathed. "I can't feel so much of the poison in his system anymore."

Dean sagged in relief and slumped onto the side of the bed, putting the back of his hand against Sam's forehead. "Thank god," he breathed. Sam didn't even feel quite as hot as he had earlier either. Dean sat there staring at his little brother's face for a long moment in relief before Wheatly cleared his throat.

"I believe I will go and see to helping Winston with the other affairs," the steward said. "Unless you have need of my assistance any longer?"

"No, you can go," Dean told him. "But…thanks, Wheatly."

The steward smiled and bowed ever so slightly. "Any time, Master Winchester."

As soon as the demon was gone, Dean groaned and stood up, glancing over at Cas.

"Come on, it's your turn. Let's see your back."

Cas wearily peeled off his ruined suit coat and shirt and sat backwards in Sam's desk chair as Dean cleaned and tended to the long claw marks that covered the angel's back, and one arm.

"Well, at least that's seen to, and Sam does seem to be on the mend," Cas said with a sigh, wincing and arching his back as Dean cleaned a particularly deep cut.

"Yeah. Unfortunately, that's not the end of our troubles," Dean reached for some butterfly bandages and started to use them to close Cas' wound, knowing he would heal too fast to bother with stitches. "We still need to find out who broke that seal in the first place."

Cas set his jaw in contemplation. "Yes…Dean, according to Wheatly, only a few demons would even know how to do that, or have the power to break that seal. It was set by Lucifer. An archangel's power cannot be so easily broken, it would take a high powered being to open it."

"So what are you saying?" Dean asked cautiously.

"I'm saying that I don't think any of the demons here would be capable of it, especially not a single guard."

Dean mulled over his words as he finished closing Cas' wounds and started to tape some gauze over them. "You think this was an outside job."

"I think we need to know what else might be roaming around in the other outer reaches of Hell," Cas said. "Pandemonium is mostly full of monsters, but Lucifer was not the only prisoner in the deepest reaches, the ones outside even the outer areas of Hell."

"I guess I gotta learn my geography," Dean said rolling his eyes.

"There's also…the Princes of Hell to consider," Cas said reluctantly.

Dean looked up from his work, nearly dropping the roll of tape. "The yellow-eyes? Thought we ganked all of them."

"No, there's still one unaccounted for," Cas said. "At least as far as I know. I'm sure Wheatly would know for sure."

"How would a Prince of Hell get in here without our knowledge?" Dean demanded, the idea that they may have been breached not setting well with him at all.

Cas shook his head as he stood stiffly. "I don't know. But they are one of only a few things I can think of that would be able to rival an archangel's power. I think it warrants an investigation."

Dean nodded in agreement as he tossed the first aid stuff back into the box. "Yeah, but it can wait at least until tomorrow. Get some rest. You can take my bed—I'm gonna stay here with Sammy." He pulled the chair over to the bed again and sat down.

Cas nodded and set a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Let me know if anything changes."

He left the room, leaving the door ajar as Dean turned back to Sam, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and propping his chin up with his hands. Sam shifted slightly and whimpered. Juliet's ears pricked and she moved further up the younger Winchester's body to rest against his side, leaning her chin on his arm. Dean snorted, but reached out and scratched her behind the ears, a bit awkwardly, but genuinely.

"I guess you're an okay mutt after all," he said with gruff affection. "You do look after him. Hell, we all know he needs as many people—and whatever—to do that."

Juliet whined as if she agreed, then yawned and closed her eyes.

Dean spent his vigil thinking about the possibility of an intruder, and what it might mean for their tenuous position as rulers.

Whatever came next, he had a bad feeling it wasn't going to be a party he wanted to be invited to.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam swam up from the fuzzy depths of unconsciousness, finally becoming aware of his surroundings.

Something shifted next to him and a moment of panic shot through him; the last thing he remembered was fighting against the Shedim, being overcome, covered by the writhing bodies…

He groaned, lashing out, but could barely raise a hand. A whine sounded and something wet and hot dragged across his face.

"Hey, stop that!"

The familiar chiding voice brought Sam fully awake, prying his eyes open and blinking several times to stare at his blurry surroundings. Dean was leaning over his bed, and his brother's face was soon joined on his other side by a doggish one with glowing red eyes.

"Mm, D'n," Sam murmured, mouth dry.

Dean's face broke into a relieved grin, cupping the side of Sam's face before remembering the hellhound slobber on it, and drawing back with a slight wince. "Sammy, how are you feeling?"

"Crappy," Sam croaked. "Can…wat'r?"

Dean hurried away and came back soon after with a glass of water. He raised Sam's head and pressed it to his lips. Sam drank greedily until Dean pulled it away all too soon.

"Easy. You gotta get hydrated but you shouldn't make yourself sick."

"Wha' happn'd?" Sam murmured, feeling a little better after the water.

Dean sighed and sat carefully on the side of the bed. "The Shedim attacked you, bit you. Apparently their saliva is poison to demons or something, and since part of you is demon now…well, you can figure it out. Anyway, Cas and I cleaned up that mess with Wheatly, Winston and some of the other demons. Meanwhile your royal highness got to rest his lily-white hands in bed while his subjects did all the work."

Sam scoffed. But he could see the harried strain in Dean below the teasing and knew it must have been bad. Sam knew his shoulder hurt pretty badly, but that wasn't so important right now. "The Shedim are back in their prison?"

"Yeah, hopefully for good this time," Dean told him.

"You ever find out how they got out in the first place?" Sam asked, eyes already starting to droop again despite his best efforts.

"Best we can figure, someone let them out," Dean said, then seemed to notice his struggle with consciousness. "But you don't need to worry about that right now. We'll talk about it later. Just rest, okay? Get better?"

Sam murmured, unable to protest. Dean stood and wrapped his blanket tighter around him. Juliet nudged her way up next to him, resting her snout in his armpit and Sam threw his arm around her, comforted by her presence, before he drifted off.

_~~~~~~~_

_When he woke again_, it was to Cas sitting and reading by his bedside.

"Hey," he murmured as he saw the angel.

Cas looked up in surprise, setting his book aside, and smiled, seeming just as relieved as Dean had been. "Sam, I'm glad to see you awake."

Sam frowned as him, noticing Cas was wearing what looked to be one of Dean's long-sleeved shirts. "What happened to your trench coat?"

The angel's lips pressed into a thin line. "Well, Dean would call it karma. It got ruined in the fight with the Shedim."

"Are you okay?" Sam asked.

Cas nodded. "Scratches mostly. They're healing, but Dean told me I had to stay and heal while he saw to business." He rolled his eyes. "Though I did want to be here when you woke up again anyway." He stood up rather stiffly, the creases in the corners of his eyes betraying his pain. "You should eat something. Do you think you could manage some soup?"

Sam nodded. "Probably."

Cas left the room and soon returned with a mug of soup for Sam and a bowl of food for Juliet. The hellhound made her way down to the floor to eat her own meal as Cas helped Sam sit up. Sam watched Juliet limping and noticed her bandaged side for the first time. He realized then that she must have been injured trying to protect him from the Shedim.

"Will Juliet be all right?" he had to ask.

"She'll be fine, Sean says she's healing well," Cas said and handed Sam the mug of soup. His hands were a little shaky, but he cupped them around the mug and drank the broth straight from that. It was good, and he felt a little better after drinking it.

Cas took his mostly empty mug away and nodded to his shoulder. "Do you mind if I check your wound? It's probably time to change the bandage."

Sam nodded his consent and pulled down the shoulder of the robe he was wearing so Cas could access his bandages.

Cas peeled the bandage away and seemed to exhale in relief. "Well, it is healing, so that's fortunate."

Sam glanced toward his shoulder with a wince, and saw a puckered mess of pink scabs that would likely scar terribly. Memories of the Shedim's teeth sinking into his flesh came back to him and he fought the urge to shudder. "It was worse than this?" he asked wryly.

Cas didn't seem to find any humor in it though, and looked away to reach for more bandages. "It was a lot worse. And…and I was not able to heal you."

Sam sobered, recognizing the pain in the angel's face. "Cas, you know it doesn't matter if you can heal us or not—"

"It matters to me," the angel cut in sharply before he inhaled deeply, shaking his head. "You and Dean are all I have, and even with your new powers, if I can no longer heal you…you may be stronger but you're not invincible. What if there's some injury you sustain that we can't fix with an antidote? What if I have to stand by and watch one of you die because I'm no longer able to heal you with the demonic influence in your blood? This is one of the reasons I was so against this in the first place."

Sam reached out and gripped Cas' wrist before the angel could apply the new bandage. "Cas, I understand, trust me, I do. I know how hard it is to stand by and not be able to do anything for the people you care about, but that doesn't change anything between us. We still need you for you, Cas, you're our brother, and I know I can't do this without you or Dean." He smiled. "And who knows? Someday you may find a way to heal us after all."

Cas didn't look convinced, but he did seem to calm a little bit, pressing the fresh gauze to Sam's shoulder and taping it in place. "I'm sorry I went off like that. I know it doesn't matter to you and Dean, and yet…I worry." He shook his head. "You two have such a bad habit of getting into the worst trouble."

Sam chuckled. "Well, you are right about that. But I hope we may be able to do better. And we have more support now too. Allies I never expected to have."

Cas nodded in agreement if not a bit reluctantly, and they both looked up as they heard the main door to the suite open, hailing Dean's return.

"Hey," the elder brother said, peeking into Sam's room and then entering as he saw he was awake. Wheatly followed and bowed slightly to Sam.

"Your Majesty, it is good to see you up," he said sincerely.

Sam smiled as Cas helped to pull his robe back over his shoulders. "Thanks, Wheatly. Is everything going okay out there?"

Dean was carrying a box which he set on the desk in the corner of the room. "Yeah, so far. Shedim are sealed up, all the stragglers have been taken care of and the gates to Pandemonium have been repaired and reinforced. We'll be keeping a double guard watching over it for a while."

He sighed as he rested his hip against Sam's desk, crossing his arms over his chest. "We just gotta figure out who let those bastards out in the first place."

Sam frowned and opened his mouth to discuss more about that subject when there was a knock at the suite door and Wheatly went to open it.

He returned a moment later with Winston who bowed to Sam as well.

"Your Majesty," he said. "I apologize for interrupting you now, but we have important news."

"What is it?" Dean demanded, straightening up.

"While we were repairing the Pandemonium gate, we discovered a body stuffed into a crack in the rocks a little way away from it."

Dean frowned. "A body? What kind of body?"

"The missing guard, Dennis," Winston said grimly.

"On our side of the gate?" Cas asked, brow furrowing.

Winston nodded. "Yes."

"What the hell?" Dean muttered. "But if he had opened the seal in Pandemonium, I would think he would end up dead there. And if by some miracle the Shedim didn't eat him the instant he broke the seal, why didn't he just bolt? He would have known we would have found out what really happened eventually."

"Exactly, Master Winchester," Winston said. "Which is why we are certain someone put him there on purpose."

"So either we've got a traitor," Dean muttered. "Or someone who's really good at disguises." He turned to Winston. "See if there's anything else you can find out. Question the guard—maybe they saw something that day that was out of place."

"Yes, sir," Winston said and left the rooms again.

Sam turned to Wheatly. "Wheatly, is there any way an outsider could have gotten past the guards?"

The steward shook his head. "Not unless he was in disguise as Master Winchester said, Your Majesty."

Sam frowned at this. "Then what do we know of that can do that besides a shapeshifter?"

"We don't know," Dean replied. "But we need to find out fast. I have a feeling this is just the beginning."

Wheatly looked like he was considering something. "I can look in the archives, see if there's anything that might help."

"Good," Dean said.

The steward left and the three stared at each other silently for a long moment. Sam licked his lips and finally voiced the thought he knew they were all considering.

"You don't think it's…_him_, do you?" he asked.

"No," Dean said firmly. "Lucifer is in a whole other dimension, busting his ass in someone else's apocalypse. Besides, do you really think he'd bother with all this?"

Sam knew Dean was right, and felt better for thinking it. However, that still begged the question: who the hell _was_ responsible?

"Anyway, we've got a situation to figure out—what else is new?" Dean said and turned to grab the box he had brought into the room earlier, handing it to Cas. "Here. This is for you."

Cas frowned as he took the box, looking confused. "For me? Why?"

"You'll see when you open it," Dean said and turned to Sam with a wink. "Happy birthday."

"It's…not my birthday."

"Just open the box," Dean insisted.

Cas pulled the lid off cautiously as if afraid that what was inside was going to bite him, but it was just a pile of black fabric. He set the box on the chair and pulled out a trench coat just like his old one but in black.

"Told you I'd get you a new coat," Dean told him proudly.

"It's black," Cas observed.

"Yeah, well, I thought you should match our new color scheme."

Cas narrowed his eyes at him for a second, though cast an interested look at the coat. Dean rolled his eyes and snagged it, motioning for Cas to turn around so he could help him into it to make it easier on his wounds. "You can still wear the white shirt and blue tie if it makes you feel better."

Cas shifted his shoulders in the coat, and Sam smiled. "I think it looks badass, Cas."

The angel cocked his head to one side and turned to the mirror in one corner of Sam's room. "I…suppose it does."

"You never said that about my coat," Dean grumbled. "You just called it lame."

"I believe 'overcompensating' was the word he used, Dean," Cas said.

"Okay, you don't need to join in! And for the record,_ I_ have nothing to overcompensate for."

Sam shared a look with Cas, as Dean turned on his heel, muttering about needing a drink, and angels being ungrateful when receiving gifts, but Sam was glad of the short interlude of levity.

He had a feeling something big was coming and he was sure they were somehow caught right in the middle of it.

_~~~~~~~_

_Near the Hellgate,_ stood a man in a white suit, demons at his back. He looked up as the wind blew through his hair—it was a wind of change, a change that he would bring.

Soon, Hell would finally have a worthy ruler again. No more of these pretenders; an actual heir to Hell would, once again, be sitting on the throne.

"My lord, shall we do this?" asked one of the demons, and the man could practically feel his impatience.

"No," he spoke. "Not quite yet. Let them think they're safe for a little while. Let them get comfortable. When I strike, they're not going to see me coming until it's too late." A slow grin spread across his face, and his eyes flashed yellow. "And then I'm going to do what my siblings failed to do—bring the Winchester brothers to their knees for good."

To be continued in: _King of the Damned_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm offering commissions over on Tumblr now (at lady-wallace) Which make good Christmas gifts for yourself or a friend, just saying ;)


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